Memories at the Rink
by IntraSule
Summary: A visit at the local Swedish ice rink triggers a memory Peter thought he's lost. (Adult Peter Kirkland; story written for my role playing blog captainrustedfort.)


It seemed like half the town's population were there to fill in the skating rink's building, and it wasn't surprising. Today was the rink's monthly "Ice-Skatapalooza" day, where ice skates rentals and admission were half-off until six in the evening. This deal was exactly the reason why Peter's Nordic family were out here as well.

His family seemed to mix in perfectly with everyone else here: Uncle Mathias speeding along the circumference of the rink as if he was in a race with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face; Uncle Lukas patiently guiding Uncle Emil in baby steps as Uncle Emil held the most embarrassed and irritated grimace on his face; Mum skating beautifully and freely with his arms stretched out like wings of a baby bird taking flight, giving out a bubbly laugh that filled the entire place, and Papa skating close to him with his hands held behind his back and chin up, masterfully skating around people without needing to look. They looked so normal, so jovial, so much like a normal family.

Peter sighed and rested his chin on his folded arms. He should be out there with his family, too, but he decided against it and remained where he was, standing behind the half-wall surrounding the ice where he can watch his family and others move carefree. It was better this way; he hasn't skated for so long that he didn't know how to get on the rink without asking someone (and there was no way he was going to ask anyone for help for something that should've been easy for him) and there was something in him that said no, just stay off the rink and leave people alone.

He was fine with being here, whether out on the rink or on the sidelines watching the good time happening. Peter sighed and closed his eyes a bit, burying half of his face up to his nose to shield his face from the cold air.

Then everything seemed to slow. The laughter of children and adults alike, and the scratching of skate blades running atop the ice, drifted away, and the emptiness behind Peter's eyelids grew darker and darker until he instinctively snapped his eyes open as he felt himself losing consciousness.

"_Oi! Peter, be careful, you would not like to fall on this."_

"_Huh?" Peter looked up at the speaker. Arthur looked back down at him with a smile, his nose red from the frosty cold air. He held Peter up by the wrists and continued to hold onto him as Peter looked around him. They were on a frozen pond, surrounded by trees stripped bare of their leaves from the snow that took their place on the branches. It was a cold, serene moment, where only Peter and Arthur were there._

_Peter tried to stand on his own skates without Arthur's aid, but nearly fell before Arthur caught him again. "Arthur, I'm never going to be able to skate like you and Alfred and Mattie!" He whined._

"_Hey, stow that negativity, young man! We didn't come out here in this hellish cold for nothing!" Arthur replied as he straightened Peter back on his skates and held him up. "Now, you want to be as fast and graceful on the ice as your brothers, now don't you?"_

_Peter's youthful excitement returned in his eyes and he grinned widely. "You know I do!"_

"_Well, then, let's hop to it!" Arthur took each of Peter's hands._

Peter opened his eyes and raised his head from his arms. He straightened up from the wall and looked around him. Everything was the same as usual, except a few people moved from the ice to the food area for a lunch break. With more space emptied out, Peter can see the ice itself more clearly. It wasn't like the frozen pond he first learned to skate decades ago, because this one was whiter and cleaner-looking, free of the occasional surface moss and lily pad that the pond used to have. As the memory ran fresh in his mind, Peter carefully moved onto the ice, holding onto the rail for support until his feet felt balanced on the blades.

"_Okay, Peter, now you start by pushing with your dominant side- er, that's the side that you use the most," Arthur said when Peter gave him a confused glance under him._

Peter pushed himself with his right foot.

"_Good lad! Now to keep moving, you move your feet like this, but don't use too much weight!"_

Peter pushed his skates forward and out, forward and out, distributing his weight carefully with each step he took so he doesn't lose his balance and fall over. His hands lifted up, feeling Arthur's warm palms in his own as he moved.

"_See, there you go, Peter! You're doing very well!" Arthur cheered as they went around the __third lap__ lap. "Well, now here comes the tricky part. Are you ready for me to let you go?"_

_Peter looked up at Aruthr with a look that was at first panicked; he wasn't ready yet, and he was sure he was going to fall on his butt or worse, break his ankle! But he surprised himself by turning his alarmed stare into a determined grin and saying, "Yeah! I want to skate on my own!"_

"_Are you sure?" Arthur raise his eyebrow._

"_I am, I am! Let go, Arthur!"_

_Arthur smiled and let go of Peter's hands._

Although Peter was only half-aware of what he was doing, he could still feel himself picking up speed on the ice. His legs moved faster in the semi-circular motion Arthur taught him as a young boy, his skate blades skidding on the surface smoothly and bringing up sprays of ice in his wake. He seemed to move so easily past the other skaters, and the air whipping against his reddened cheeks made him feel like flying.

_Peter opened his arms out, at first to keep balance for the first few clumsy steps, but then to pretend that he was flying as he whooshed around and around the ice. "Arthur look, I'm flying!  
He shouted as he skated past Arthur._

_Arthur grinned proudly and clapped. "You are, Peter! You really are!" He laughed._

_Peter then had an idea; it was something he wanted to do for so long ever since he first saw the pretty lady in the leotard do it on the television set on the Olympics. As he moved, Peter bent his legs at an angle and held his arms close. _

_Arthur's grin dissolved as he recognized what Peter was trying to do. "Peter! Peter wait, don't-!"_

Peter stiffened his legs after pumping them up, which pushed him up into the air. He twisted his body so he spun while airborne. He spun two times, three, four, five times before he landed into a slide on his skates. He slid to a halt in a crouching position, straightened up, and stared at his black skates. He was in disbelief, at first trying to realize what he just accomplished for the first time in his life, and then beaming excitedly and laughing softly once the reality had set in. He giggled and wiped a tear away from his eye.

If only Arthur had saw, he would've been so proud.


End file.
